gone?
by Grr
Summary: What is a lion, compared to a snake? The king of the jungle? A lot of good that does when he has perished by the deathly bite of a cobra. Or a basilisk. What’s a Gin compared to a Tom? Nothing.
1. Gone

Ginny closed the curtains around her four-poster bed and put a spell on them to keep the noise out. She did this for her privacy more than any thing else. She couldn't stand the other girls. With all of their mindless frivolity and petty jokes. Always teasing her because she was different. They didn't understand the real world. They couldn't. At least, not like Ginny could. But then again no one could even understand Ginny.

She could hear their voices, no doubt talking about her. Always tormenting. Their cruel words doing more damage than pain ever could. She picked up a piece of parchment and dipped her quill in the ink by her bedside table. She did this every night, almost part of a routine now. She would write another letter.

_Dear Tom,_

_They still bother me, those girls. You said that you would get rid of them. But then again, that was 5 years ago. Why don't you come back? Why can't you see that I need you? I don't want you though._

_I get voices in my head telling me to do things I don't want to do. I wanted them to go away but then I thought that maybe, it was you. But it wasn't, was it? If you tried to make me do something, I would have done it. I am like the tree I saw in the forbidden forest. It had been cut down to the stump years ago and was covered in mold. Mold that stops me breathing. That mold is you. What's wrong? Don't like being compared to mold? It's a compliment when you think about it. If I got rid of the mold the termites would get to me. And you know that I don't like termites. _

_Remember in our last conversation when you asked me if I still 'liked' Harry? I said yes and then, you hurt me. You took my soul, my life essence. When Harry came to save me I remember the look in his eyes. He had a deep satisfaction that he had beaten you, but he mostly cared about good, triumphing over evil. His eyes were innocent and pure. I hated it. That is when I first started to despise Harry; he was the one who took you away from me._

_I remember your eyes Tom, a deep blue. No 'flecks of gold', just pure blue. If you're so evil then why do you have calm eyes? Or is it a mask? To hide from the world? That's all you ever were. A poor orphan who wanted somewhere to go. To be loved. And I was showered in love by my friends and family. I don't know how you did it but you stole all of my love. And my heart. Well, now you are a thief as well as a murderer. _

_People are avoiding me in the school because I don't talk. But it's not true. I do talk, I just don't answer to the name Ginny anymore. I am Ginevra. You always told me that I shouldn't shorten the name that portrays my personality. And then I told you that 'Ginny' was my personality. Well, it isn't any more and never will be again. Why did you change your name? Voldemort. I am not afraid to say it but I think you were ashamed. Ashamed of your filthy muggle parents. But where they really that filthy to give birth to an angel like you? Yes, an angel. An angel is anything perfect and you are all of that._

_I was going to escape the school and find you. Help bring you to power once again. Then I though I could kill Harry for you but you wouldn't have wanted that. You would want to kill him yourself. I will stay in Hogwarts and keep the faith for you alive, even if I am the only one._

_I had a dream about you last night. The way you used to be. You were telling me all these promises. That you would come back for me. That you never went a day without thinking about me. That I was the one you cared for. Then I realized that you don't care. How can you care without a heart? _

_When you call for him, Snape ignores it and continues with his meaningless life. But I wouldn't. You know this and yet, you still refrain from granting me your mark. I made my own one though, with a carving knife. I carved it into my upper arm. I know I'm not much of an artist but you would be proud of me if you could see it. But you can't. Why do you torment me? In my sleep I feel that you are watching. I have countless nightmares about death and yet, am not afraid of it. Why? I die almost every night but every day I struggle on with my life. If I could, I would end it all now. But that would be cowardice and as a 'Gryffindor' I am not allowed. That's not the real reason. I only live to prove my self to you._

_You never liked my hair either. Said it was too 'red'. I changed it. I know you don't like anything muggle so I didn't use dye. I cut it off. All of it. I thought that maybe you would want me to. I threw it in the fire and let it burn with the rest of the Gryffindor crap. What's a lion compared to a snake? The king of the jungle? A lot of good that does when he has perished by the deathly bite of a cobra. Or a basilisk. What's a Gin compared to a Tom? Nothing._

_Why don't you come back? Why won't you visit? Reply to my letters. How do I tell my owl to take this to 'voldemort'? You will always be Tom to me. But I know that you are gone. Please, repl-_

Ginny was crying too hard to finish the letter. A tear slid down her cheek and fell on the paper causing the words to merge together. Her vision was blurred, but if she were able to, she would have seen the words fade on the parchment and new ones take their place.

_Gone, am I?_


	2. Mark

Tom glanced down at Ginny. It was obvious that she was having one of those nightmares that she so often wrote about. Her hands were gripping the sheet so tightly that her knuckles were white and her forehead was dappled with sweat.

'_Tom..._' she whispered, as a single tear slid down her cheek. He watched it roll down her face and disappear into her pillow. Lying next to her was the unfinished letter and a quill, which was making a stain on the sheets. He reread the letter once more.

_Dear Tom,_

_They still bother me, those girls. You said that you would get rid of them. But then again, that was 5 years ago. Why don't you come back? Why can't you see that I need you? I don't want you though._

_I get voices in my head telling me to do things I don't want to do. I wanted them to go away but then I thought that maybe, it was you. But it wasn't, was it..._

All this talk of betrayal annoyed Tom. He didn't desert her. He was here, wasn't he? But that's just the thing, he wasn't really there. How could he be when he was just a memory? Sure Harry destroyed the diary, but he couldn't get to the part of Tom that was still in Ginny. _Ginevra? _He thought, _did I really tell you to change your name? Hmm... But Ginny _is_ you. _

She had changed a lot in five years time, both mentally and physically, and now she was less innocent and more aware. Her body had grown curves and her features were sharper, although that might be because of her violently cut hair. It had been hacked away with scissors by the looks of it, and now was regrowing in uneven, red clumps. It was true, he had hated the colour red, but not as much as he hated what she had done to herself.

He slowly pushed up the covers and exposed Ginny's arm, holding his candle close so that he could see. There in her flesh was a harsh copy of the dark mark. It was done in painful gashes and slits, and the effect was spectacular, if not a bit crude. This seemed a very desperate way of making the mark, but as every witch or wizard knows, the best way to make a scar is without magic, because it wont fade as much over time. _Well, _thought Tom,_ If it is my mark that she wants, my mark she shall have. _He slowly lifted his wand and pointed the tip against her skin.

'_Impertio!' _he hissed, and the cuts in her arm filled with ink and healed, leaving a genuine dark mark in its place. Ginny cried out softly in her sleep, and recoiled. Tomorrow she would see the mark and know that he had been there, but that was okay. Tom was sure that the nightmares she was having had just gotten a whole lot worse. But that was just the beginning, because soon he would be back and then there would be a lot more pain and suffering, until he got what he wanted.

Tom turned away from Ginny and blew out the candle before exiting the room from the way he had come.

X..x..X..x..X..x..X

Ginny woke as the sun reached her window, and propped herself up on her pillows. The dreams last night were as bad as always. She dreamt that she was back in the chamber, and there was Tom, standing there, unmoving. She rushed up to embrace him but he didn't even blink. He was still. Something was wrong. Ginny had tried to make him respond but he was just standing there.

She ran a hand through her scraggly hair and struggled to remember the rest of her dream. She hadn't known what to do so she felt for a pulse, but she couldn't find one. She was crying by then, and running her hands over his face, desperate for a response...

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he was staring at her. She had gasped and stepped back a few paces because of what she saw. His left eye was a dark blue and emotionless as ever, but his right eye was glinting maliciously, and bright green in colour. It wasn't Tom after all.

Ginny relaxed back into her pillow. She couldn't remember the rest of her dream. Just a sort of burning feeling... She always blocked out the worst parts, so all she was left with were flashes of what had happened, and a vague feeling of discomfort. Sometimes she would feel a bit of the pain as well, but not often anymore. That was why she always had a shower in the morning, to wash away last night's dreams.

She got up and pulled the curtains shut. The sunlight was too bright, and she much preferred small dark places. The next thing to do was to take a shower before the other girls got up and started their meaningless chatter. Ginny always felt wide awake in the mornings, and she couldn't understand why other people lay there sleeping in. It was the nights that troubled Ginny. Once she was alone in the quiet, and the darkness she was the loneliest for Tom. And that's when she wrote the letters, to feel closer to him. They read a bit like a diary now, telling what was happening in her life.

Ginny gathered all of her things together and slipped into the bathroom. She avoided looking in the mirror as usual. She knew that the person that looked back at her wouldn't be herself; it would be Ginny Weasley, the daughter of Molly and Arthur. The girl with six friendly brothers and freckles. That's what people saw when they looked at her, but she knew better. But by accident Ginny caught her reflection in the mirror and gasped. There, on her arm, was a skull with a snake protruding from the mouth. The Dark Mark... But that would mean... Tom.


End file.
